Robotech: Leak of Arms
by Bio-Major Agent85
Summary: Taking place right after Force of Arms, the Zentraedi forces still exist, but are slowly being taken out by an unknown force. That soon becomes the enemy of both forces. *Chapter 2 is now up*
1. Default Chapter

Robotech:  
  
Leak of Arms  
A serrated ribbon of tortured hope and riveting future smoothed around the lone super fortress as it armed the last of its reflex warheads at the focal point of the alien's mother ship. It had been the last minute plan that they were hoping would work, that would hopefully weaken the Zentraedi's military strength and intelligence and give the segregated people of the SDF-1 a chance for survival. An additional hundred detonations of tiring fire sparked from the igniting warheads, adding to the war's already thousands of boisterous explosions of drifting and flooding missiles and gunfire. The final likelihood for survival was engaged in the SDF-1's barrier shield system. Drowning the entire frame of the substantial war vessel in a sting of shuddering fire, as the threads of drying flames swallowed themselves, they left nothing in the worn darkness of space, but a speck of iridescent metal.  
  
Embraced and held in warm arms, Lisa Hayes and Rick Hunter relish that they were able to endured the momentous war that was held and the destruction that was caused by it. As his body and mind calmed to the sinking wind, Rick's hand fingered Lisa's side firmly as they watched the setting sun over the leveled west.  
  
"It looks like the fighting stopped." Lisa's churning voice announced to the stilling quiet. Rick replied with a simple remark, still gazing over the field of burnt ash and residue that once was an immeasurable city. Even seeing the event happen, he still can't reason with his own mind that it was still true, that almost every person on earth had been exterminated.  
  
"I wonder if any one else is around?" Lisa's words infringed even more on Rick's thoughts as his fingers pressed still against Lisa's stomach and side, feeling the matted officer's suit under his touch. With a pick up of supposing wind, Lisa's tanned brown hair scattered across Rick's cheeks and lips.  
  
"What'd you mean?" Rick's agile eyes caught her in her already turning gaze, meeting him in his own stare.  
  
"Well, we might be the only survivors. It would be sad, if we were." Lisa's studying look swept to her feet as the reality of her words set in. She can't imagine if she and Rick were the only survivors of the human race, becoming relics of a once great culture.  
  
"That wouldn't be too bad, would it?" Lisa's ears exposed themselves to listen to Rick's chuckling comment. "At least you wouldn't be alone."  
  
"Oh, Rick." Lisa gazed once again in to his youth face, addicting herself to Rick's eyes, but his eyes were once again wondering around above them, watching with his ears and listening with his eyes.  
  
"Do you hear that?" his questioning mouth spat.  
  
"It's.Minmei!" Their eyes glimmered with excitement as the realization came to mind.  
  
"Than the SDF-1 survived!" Rick embraced Lisa's body again as he drew her close to him. Even before his mouth could lip the words, his finger pointed to the descending form that stood alone against the vista.  
  
"SDF-1!" Knowing that they weren't the only survivors and that they would reunited with their friends soon, lifting the boggling burden from their shoulders, but know they would all face the tender and painful job of rebuilding from only ashes of the earth.  
  
The chance of continued existence had been giving to the survivors of the whole human race, for the last two years, letting them pondering on the thoughts of what may come next. Even with the unforgiving ways of rebuilding, life was founding love again and finally reconstructing itself once again in the hearts of many, but for two of them it was a harder ordeal.  
  
"It was so nice of you to ask me out tonight, Rick. I thought you would never ask." Lisa's charm came from her scarlet lips as signs of happiest and love.  
  
The streetlights held bright with orange bulbs, shying away the darkness from Lisa's pressed white shirt, but covering in her blackish gray cotton pants and reflecting from her glossy black boots, as she walked close to Rick's side.  
  
'I thought you needed a rest from the Bridge Bunnies and their gossip of you and me dating. And what else could take your mind off of them, than a night out with me."  
  
The two's fingers softly slide together, than grew firm as they grasped on to each others warmth. The nightlife glittered privately around them, as the store lights and lively streetlights tapped on either side of them. Even the trivial tremors that rattled the loose dirt that fashioned the bare road could break them from each other grasp. Their caring eyes didn't notice the dreadfully, bulky stained black military boot that sprung in front of them, engulfing the small side walk that they traveled upon, the lustrous leather nearly pushing across Rick's transfixed face.  
  
"Oh, dreadfully sorry I am, but I didn't see you down there. Please don't take offense, I will be more careful next time." The fading gray skinned Zentraedi defector boomed to them as slivers of green hair slide into his eyes. With a pleasant wave from his oversized hand, he went on his way, taking careful steps as he lumbered heavily down the beaming sidewalk. With the reformed Zentraedi around, life on the streets of Macross had been changed forever. Once warriors that killed thousands of innocent civilians had become them, walking down the boulevards for a quiet and peaceful night. It was a strange turn of events, and no body could have foreseen this happening, but it could just be the gateway for peace in the near future.  
  
"Killers one day, gentlemen the next. If only all of them thought that way." Rick's thoughts went deep into his own words; things were slowly changing, but not fast enough for him. The Zentraedi's military forces still existed, even without their lord, Dolaz, another already took his place, Khyron, one that Rick thought just might be worst than Dolaz. It was just a matter of time before he would attack the wobbly peace that was settling on the established cities around the watching SDF- 1.  
  
"Rick, I want to tell you thanks again for taking me out. It's been a long time and with the stresses of my job, I was just about to burst, but then once again you came and swept me away. Nothing can ruin this night." But Lisa's soft, kind words were covered and drawn away by the distressing detonations that rattled and rolled into the sullied street as a building caught the flames in its hand. "An attack?"  
  
"No, there's just one." With a sigh of his breathe and a dropping fear, Rick turned his charismatic eyes into her steel ones. "Lisa, I want you to call the SDF-1 and tell them to get a Veritech team down here, I'll try and stop the attack." With nothing more than a sway and dash of his black suit coat, he went astray in the misleading, tossing gray- black smoke that fanned through the area.  
  
The aged military suit reflected in the fires that its wearer caused. His purple tanned skin glinted in the shadows of the opening fires. The black cased Zentraedi rifle hung warm in the Zentraedi warrior's hands as he picked his next target. He didn't want to destroy, he wanted a fight and nothing else would bring that out, than destruction of one of the Micronions' city.  
  
"Zentraedi, stop this attack. There is no need for this senseless destruction. Whatever the reason is that you feel you need destroy, we will help you with that, but stop attacking, we are friends now!" Rick's voice came off weak and frail, giving no authority over the Zentraedi's massive size.  
  
"Stupid Micron, there's nothing you can give me, unless it's a fight. Your once thought great culture has become an irritation to my warrior pride. Now Micron, can you give me what I long for?" The thriving words of the forty-foot Zentraedi soldier surpassed Rick's trivial speech for peace.  
  
The immensely large gun barrel came eye to eye with Rick as he rooted his feet to the ground. With a chuckling coming from his curling lips, he laid his finger on the trigger. Before flesh could touch metal, a fragment of orange slag shattering the weapon from the crisp hands of the Zentraedi and into the dead floor of the street.  
  
Strangling blasts of bloated white smoke whined with the night air falling behind the polished maneuvers of steady hands.  
  
"Archangel-6 to SDF-1, I'm there." Gentle flickers of moss green light tainted the pilot's hidden face in the darkness. "Damn Zentraedi." The mutterings came fro under his breath.  
  
"Oh, so you stupid micronians will finally give me a fight. At last, something worth testing my strength on." His heated voice sprouted roots of fire as he prepared his hands for a fight.  
  
The tan coffee colored fighter disembarked its long and narrow design as its thrusters carried down into broad legs, following with a swing of arms from underneath. The swift nose of the plane, folded over itself, reveling the blocky, dark browned head, supporting a lone, lean point from the top of its head.  
  
"Zentraedi, stop your attack or I'll be forced to fire." With the pilot's warning in the air, his newly formed battroid's nimble fingers gripped the barrel of the gun.  
  
"Throw away your shamefulness and give me a fight." Flaring hands rushed, but another set hugged tight from behind.  
  
The gray Zentraedi turncoat that nearly stepped on Rick bear hugged his once brother of war with heavy force, pinning the renegade's arms down.  
  
"No need to shot, micronian, I will talk this savage down, we can still live in peace."  
  
The gun pod still lied on the chest of the Zentraedi deserter as he wrestled with his peace-loving brother. "They should all be killed." With those simple words, the trigger of the gun collapsed against the back of the wall.  
  
Rounds of pressing fire from the triple barrels of the gun pod, disintegrated cloth and flesh as they were pulled through the Zentraedi's bodies by the melting heat. Jumps of blood skipped to the sidewalks and muddy road below. Startled people around the silent war that had been waged in the middle of their shopping time were saturated with the heavy copper smelling blood that continued its endless drip from their bodies to the ground. The renegade's serrated body slumped forward as the culture-loving turncoat lied in the rubble of a building that he collapsed while trying to gain his footing during the scatter of bullets, several of the broken pieces of concrete lied still wet with his cooling blood.  
  
As troubled screams and panicked words began to settle, Rick Hunter came to his feet, still leaning his body over Lisa's.  
  
"Goddamn that stupid pilot. What the hell was he thinking? Instead of settling the situation without violence, he killed an innocent Zentraedi and probably hurt numerous people in the process." Rick took himself from Lisa's side and roamed through the riddled streets of empty shell casing and torn fragments of shredded cloth. " Pilot, this is Lt. Hunter, you had no reason to fire. The war's closing to an end, we're trying everything to keep it quiet and with a flare up like this you just may have throw us right back in."  
  
The glinted plate of green glass that served as the battroid's single eye turned to the tiny body that yelled and screamed at his bad actions. The fires that still burned with fuel for a lifetime, lit up Rick's frame in the reflecting visor of the tauntful battroid, that uncaringly and grimly stared down to the pressing human. With nothing more than a rush of toggling gears and attacking smoke, the Battroid altered back into its fighter form, pushing against the pressures of earth and launching the vehicle vertically to the stars.  
"Rick, we have to get back to the SDF-1, they may need us if something else happens." Lisa's voice wondered over Rick's shoulder, as he never let his eyes off the chaos that was caused by one foolish decision.  
The spoiled ruins of an entire race of gigantic warriors lingered further from the earth's contaminating culture and its protector the SDF-1. The last score of remaining warship coasted around the nearing planet, only known as Mars. It's sandy red shade liming and sweetening the military green star cruisers, as the undersized fleet stilled around the outer reach of Mars.  
  
Slices of blue ran into a square as a paled, haggard face appeared in the thin video monitor.  
  
"Lord Khyron, some of my men were thinking, since we are nearing Mars and the Micronians had a base there once, that there just maybe some armaments that we could use to restock are own war ships."  
  
"Yes, that doesn't sound too bad. I remember that day, when they distorted are plans on capturing the battle fortress, but those damn micronians blow up their own base to destroy six gravity mines. It just may be true that something could have been left behind that we could use. Send a team of Battle Pods to check around the surrounding area of that micronian base." Khyron's words ramped through the thin screen as bit by bit disappeared into the air. "Filthy micronians."  
  
With the still blistering bay doors of the Entry Pod open, the running egg shaped Battle Pods lumbered out. Slipping speed wormed through the Battle Pods' lengthy legs as they chatted with the heavy sands of Mars. Even with their escalating speed, the Zentraedi warriors that crammed themselves in the small Battle Pods noticed the lightly covered pieces of silvery white metal that was the only thing pullulated the small planet.  
  
"Stop here!" The gruff field commander yelled. The team jarred their moving Battle Pods, holding their position behind the Officer Pod that scanned the ground very strongly.  
  
"Commander, I'm getting movement all around us, we're encircled." The deep-rooted Zentraedi voice loomed over the speakers in the Officer's Pod.  
  
"I already know, it has to be some type of micronian trap. All units prepare arms." With the command given all Battle Pods aimed their large gun turrets to the very ground that bordered their units.  
Though the creaking grounds, fissures splintered through rock and sand, with a horrible speed never before seen, translucent greenish brown roots, sheltered in clear reflecting slime, warmed and grabbed on to the jaded one crimson eye that plated the nearest Battle Pod, tearing it from the void of the world. Gunfire erupted with in a sheer panic around the area. Bolts of heavy energy clouded the ground with springs of red clouds of sand, but it soon faded with the screams of the Zentraedi as something dragged them in to the core of the planet.  
"The micronians don't know what they have unleashed with that explosion they did, something that is an enemy to both of our races and something with enough power to kill us all, the Gudis." 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
The intensified devastation of stilling ash and dust was the modest look that the patrolling Veritech groups got. Out of view or covered with a layers of feathery dust, skeleton pictures of Zentraedi giants lied around their cruisers, that had knifed themselves into to the ground after their engines had died along with their crew. The long ago cities become graveyards of scrapeless Robotechnology, Veritechs and Battle Pods served in the same graves.  
  
Above in the liquid heat of the day, a small collection of Veritech fighters nimbly watched for any disruption from the revolting Zentraedi. Once ace pilots now spent their time watching sand collect on the useless pieces of rusting war machines that littered the wastelands.  
  
"Doesn't look like there's going to be any activity of renegade attack or looting, boss. Now a days all we, pilots, can do is hope for some target practice with some unarmed Battle Pods." With slight chuckles of growing boredom, Max Sterling, lunged further down from the cluster of fighters.  
  
"Doesn't look like there will be for awhile. It just may be true that peace isn't too far away." Rick's voice toggled over the TAC net.  
  
Max's once impressive skills droned to only piloting in free roaming air. Though, he didn't like the fact that he couldn't showboat his skills to the new recruits and impress the hell out of them, he was glad that the war was finally over and everything would slowly follow in the ways of peace. "Hey, boss, I think I see something down there, I can't really see what it is, but it's worth investigating. At least it will give me something to do."  
  
Cooling jets frenzied with the superheated flames as Max's Veritech rammed the density of the atmosphere. The thin layers were serrated and grated by the VF-1J's super imposed engines, cleaving the pattern of the heavens. As speed grew, the vista that peaked at Max's eye became clearer, sparkles of ever most green stippled the drying land of tranquil, tanned dirt. Measured speeds routed around the spreading feet of the Veritech as they swung down below the plane's body to shape lumbered legs and bulky arms. With just a minuet thrust of velocity, Max hovered over the dimpled pit that thrived with energetic plants of warping vines and desiring olive leaves.  
  
"Boss, there's plants down here, actually plants that weren't made by human hands. The earth has finally forgiven us for the pain that we put it through for our survival. I have to take a closer look at this." Before the alarming words could hit a listener's ears, Max had set down his Veritech in the confined jungle that secluded itself in a cavity that was there only as a reminder of the war.  
  
The sealed canopy hissed with restraint as it was lifted behind Max's head. The air whined with moisture, sweeping out the sickly dirt that booked his lungs. With a deep breath, Max scanned the area refreshed. The vivid green was a change for the better for Max; there was nothing more than brown in this world now, and it had been so long since any other color was apparent. Branches and leaves chafed across Max's flight suit, but he didn't mind, the lost feeling of the scuffed texture of leaves was comforting to him in someway.  
  
"It's strange, I never paid attention to the plant life before, since there was so much of it, but now I'm almost praising this small section of it. I just can't believe how much we have lost." The plants took in Max's whispers of words as they rustled with life, parting to clear a view of a hidden, blustered Battle Pod that lied stretched across the patches of grass, its body bristled with rusting spot of bubbled armor that was burnt under the heat of some unknown battle. And in the light of paradise, the truth was once again emerged.  
The dismal smell of cooked oiled was endorsed by the large machinery that sat gloomy and heavy in the room. Emphasize by the dusky shadow of the room, Emil Lang, presented in his never tiring white suit, necked by a heavy, cobalt collar that run along his shoulders. With a reach of his hand, he greeted his visitor.  
  
"Captain Gloval, I was expecting you."  
  
With a brief nod, Captain Gloval placed his hand into Lang, shaking the very hand that is responsible for the human race still being here today.  
  
"Yes, Dr. Lang, I wanted to check in with you on the conditions of the Veritech fighters and Destroids." Captain Gloval's strong accent further pushed the seriousness of the issue.  
  
"Well, as of now, we are in need of some more of the vital parts, mostly ammunition for the Gu-11 Gun Pods. As for the number of working Veritechs, we have over 200 working 1As, 47 1Js, 34 1Ss, and 13 1Ds. They are all in good condition. The Destroids we have an overt amount of them, which helps us provide more time and repair to the Veritechs. Also, I am proud to say that we were able to save the new Veritech model from the damaged remains of ARMD-4, which had been nearly destroyed during the Zentraedi's rain on the earth. We will be working hard to finish it, but I am sad to say that this will be the only one ever produced. We just don't have the parts to build another one, so it would be wise to assign this to one of your ace pilots." Dr. Lang's transfixing whiteless eyes gave their report as Gloval considered everything that was said  
  
"It seems that if the Zentraedi were to attack that we would be able to hold them off, but outcomes are never planned with numbers. We can only hope that the rebels don't keep up their attacks like they are, because while we wait, Khyron is planning his revenge."  
Craters of detonating, panicked fire rippled on Mar's bleak terrain. Laces of tight plasma energy triggered in the deepened hollow as something hungered for the wobbly Battle Pod. From the patches of dipping blackness, red-gemmed eyes glimmered with smiles as the Zentraedi warrior resisted the creature's demands and fingers as they continually reached from the night of the planet's core, baring orange tentacles that flailed alone in the shadows. A warrior's pride slipped into timid eyes, fearing for what might come. His once Zentraedi arrogance made him turn and run, leaving his dead comrades to rot with their nemesis. Hurried moans revamped from the cracking cavity that had swallowed a whole squad of Battle Pods, hastening the legs of the running survivor. He knew that lord Khyron would have him killed for not fighting to the bitter end, but to suffer death from the Gudis was the worst thing a Zentraedi could endure.  
  
In the brassy red desert, the solitary reentry pod laid, waiting for the rest of its crew to return to its haul. Its bay door still left open, attracting the red sands of the still planet to collect on its open hand. Through the fiery wind, the cherry coated, intense white Battle Pod clambered on to the bay door, closing behind it, with whispers of pressing weight. With a shuffle of legs, the defected Battle Pod, shorted out by the translucent slime that wormed its way into the cockpit, bent down, huddling to the ground. The stressed hatch flew into a rage, peering a hand over the side as the anxious Zentraedi soldier staggered to the reassuring firm floor of the reentry pod. His legs were still weighty with fear as he scrambled to snatch a rifle from the wall. With stumbling bouts with the floor, the aimless survivor lurched heavy and lunged into the cockpit of the Reentry pod, startling the two pilots who sat futilely caressing the vista of the oddly planet.  
  
With short breathes of stream and liquid fear, the Zentraedi combatant sparred his struggling breathe as it rushed to his mouth, hardly able to speak his running words, " We have to get out of here!"  
  
His panicked shrills of anxiety and terror confused the pilots from their entranced musing, but their hands already begun functioning and influencing the controls of the outsized circus tent like ship. Tremendous rattles of jolting and trembling metal shuddered the small rounded vessel, rendering it from lift.  
  
"What was that?" The irregular, coarse voice of the Zentraedi pilot dribbled from his mouth as he rounded his head over his shoulder to try and glance a look at what might be the problem.  
  
"The bay door has come open." The other one said in an almost nonchalant tone. " Something most of opened it, it needs to be checked out before we can lift off." Teaming eyes stared dead less at the shaking warrior at their shoulders.  
  
"I'm on it." The Zentraedi warrior voiced, regaining his warrior code.  
  
The room gazed with nothing more than the lone Battle Pod that he had left there before. The hefty bay door, still littered with the lots of discolored red sand, laid once again on the ground, collecting the grains of the day again. With suspicious footsteps, the reclaiming solider stooped to the bedded door. A pointed gaze outside was all the Zentraedi dared to look. He knew the crimson ground was stained with his brothers' blood and whatever killed them was still out there. It was sly, concealing itself underground when they first neared it. Using a slimly substance to disable their Battle Pods and than taking the fearing soldiers out itself.  
  
A timid chuckle bellied out from the warrior's throat, realizing his fear was just a rouse of his imagination. With a cuff of his palm, the manual close button locked into itself. The tranquil heated air staled in the shut Reentry Pod. Calmed with survival, the weary fighter leisurely relaxed his edgy muscles. Nickels of snapping membranes resounded behind the survivor's shoulder. A droning fear recycled itself in the warrior's body. The lone survivor wasn't alone anymore. 


End file.
